


the love language of dean winchester

by DarkHeartInTheSky



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Drabble, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 15:31:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15609375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkHeartInTheSky/pseuds/DarkHeartInTheSky
Summary: This is how Castiel knows he is loved.





	the love language of dean winchester

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Mal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalMuses/pseuds/MalMuses) for betaing. I love your face.

Dean Winchester does not say _I love you._

 

Instead, when Castiel loses his grace for the last time, finally and fully becoming human, Dean cracks open a beer and sits him on the hood of the Impala and they stare at the stars silently for hours, until Dean, on his fourth beer, taps his bottle against Castiel’s and says _I’m glad you’re okay. I’m glad you’re here._

 

Instead, Dean ushers Castiel into the motel room, supporting Castiel’s weight because his leg is wounded, definitely sprained, maybe broken. He sets Castiel on the bed, shines a light in his eyes, calls him a _stupid_ _son of a bitch_. He fixes Castiel a shot of whiskey and tells him to stay still while he puts the stitches above Castiel’s eyebrow, neat, quick, practiced.

 

Instead, Dean orders they take a short break from hunting. He cooks burgers and breaks out all the toppings. He buys three different kinds of ice cream from the store and sets up a _Lord of the Rings_ marathon. He makes Castiel try all the different flavors, and rolls his eyes when Castiel declares neapolitan is his favorite, but makes Castiel another bowl anyway.

 

Instead, Dean puts his hand on Castiel’s shoulder, looks him in the eye, and helps him count his breaths. He helps him block out the sound of the dentist’s drill that brings awash of awful, painful memories Castiel can’t ignore. He hears Naomi’s voice, Metatron’s voice, whispering insidious things to him: _you came off the line with a crack in your chassis; you are broken._ But Dean is there, Dean is with him, muttering, _it’s okay, Cas, you’re okay; I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you._

 

Instead, Dean teaches Castiel how to play SNES and throws a fit when Castiel beats him at _Super Mario Brothers_ , even though Castiel is sure Dean lost on purpose, because he still isn’t sure which button does what.

 

Instead, Dean buys Castiel all sorts of clothes: jeans, t-shirts, polos, sweatpants, basketball shorts.  He says Castiel looks too much like a stiff in his suit and coat all the time, but every few weeks, he still gets them dry cleaned.

 

Instead, Dean stays up with Castiel at night, long after Sam has retired to bed, with a record playing on low, and he tells Castiel stories. _This song reminds me of this one time, with Dad. . ._

 

Instead, Dean calls Castiel a big baby as he sits Castiel down at the table with a box of tissues and a bowl of steaming tomato and rice soup in front of him.  Dean puts the back of his hand to Castiel’s forehead for the fifth time in an hour, frowning. _How ‘bout some tea?_ Dean asks, and leaves to make some before Castiel can answer.

 

Instead, Dean sits sleepless by Castiel’s hospital bed, rubbing his sore hand, because the student nurse blew the veins trying to stick the IV. He makes Castiel drink ice water every ten minutes and spends more time than necessary fluffing his pillows, careful of the malevolent bruises that encircle Castiel's neck, the whole time telling Castiel _you’re a moron, you know that? i_ n between his incessant scoldings of _why didn’t you wait for us? You know how pissed I’d be if you died to a vamp bite? I’d reach my boots into the veil and and stick my foot so far up your ass, you'll never get the taste of beef outta your mouth._

 

Instead, Dean takes Castiel by the hand and leads him to Dean’s bedroom, without saying a word. He closes the door and kisses Castiel softly, still mindful of the bruises on Castiel’s face and neck, fingers barely brushing over Castiel’s skin, mutters, _stupid_ _son of a bitch_ , and kisses Castiel again.

 

Dean Winchester does not say _I love you._

 

But Castiel knows he is loved.


End file.
